Some Kind of Miracle
by af-gurl-af
Summary: What would happen if Achilles was brought back from Hades' realm? Would Apollo suffer the same fate as he did with the nymph Daphne? Eros? Will Love fall in love himself?


**A/N: This story is sort of a twist. It's about the Iliad mixed with a bit of the other Greek Myths. I put effort into this, I hope you enjoy my story, readers. Thanks for reading! A review would be nice. Reviews motivate me, you see. And the story takes place before the whole 'Psyche and Eros' thing. I've already warned you. But don't worry. Eros and Psyche will be coupled. Did I say that right?**

Some Kind of Miracle

Chapter 1

The sun peeked out of the mountains' valley, its rays turning the sky a violet red color. Catching sight of the morning star and its rays of warmth, the rooster announced that morning, once again, had come. The scent of the summer morning drifted its way to the countryside, located in Sparta. Droplets of dew sparkled as the sunlight shone its rays to brighten the world. Just like a torch brightening a chamber, a lamp brightening a room. The tulips stretched out its dew-covered petals, greeting the sun as the owl retreated back into her shelter, the vast woods, for protection. The wise bird knew that the sunlight would prevent her to see. Once the sun had set, she would be able to perform tasks for the Goddess of Wisdom, Athena, once again.

A young girl about seven years of age wandered out of a house made of marble and granite. Her slim body was protected from the chilling winds by a white tunic. Long tresses of gold were held up into a high pony-tail; orbs of bright blue innocently scanning the crowd less area.. A crown of flowers had purposely been placed on her head, showing a sign of importance, authority, rather. The seven year old was known as Areta, her name meaning beauty. Her name was given by the Gods. Aphrodite specifically assigned it to her. The Goddess of love and sexual desire, along with beauty, had granted Areta measureless exquisiteness because of the noble deed Areta's mother had done for the Love Goddess; however, no one seemed to notice Areta's attractiveness just yet. She was only a six year old at the time. Her father was the head of the community, working for the king, Menelaus. During that time, Helen of Sparta was only in her teenage years (perhaps fifteen years old), radiant and beautiful. People would always admire how stunning the princess was; but they knew little about Areta. She was always known as any other little girls; soon to be trained for the Olympics.

A melodious euphony soon caught Areta's attention. She stopped at her tracks and shifted her head, and sharpened her hearing sense. The melody's source seemed to be radiating from the vast woods. Without another second to spend, or without thinking how dangerous it would be, Areta proceeded her steps and headed into the wooded area. Her eyes wandered around curiously, her ears trying to find the source of the pleasant sound. At last, blue oculars fell onto a figure a bit far away, a white cloth was wrapped around his lower torso. Areta approached the figure curiously; noticing the slightly long golden locks the figure had, Areta assumed it was a girl; then, when she was about a meter away, she knew how wrong she was.

"A boy!" Areta exclaimed. She raised her hand and pointed an index finger at the figure. She lowered her hand slightly when the stranger, who seemed as young as she was (perhaps a year older than Areta) opened his eyes and drew the musical instrument, known as the Shepherd's Pipes, and held it in his hands. He had an admirable face; soon it scrunched into a confused expression. He raised a brow, green eyes met blue. "Hello! I am called Areta, who might you be?"

"I am Achilles. And yes I am a male child, what of it?" The eight year old asked with a bothered tone. Then realization struck him, he was not to tell anyone of his identity. His life as a boy was to remain a secret; Achilles was still in hero-training. Thus, his trainer, Chiron, disguised Achilles as a girl. He quickly thought a lie and spoke in a high-pitched voice. "I mean to say…no! You are mistaken! I am just a girl, not a boy. I am Achillia! Can you not tell the difference between a boy and a girl?"

Unfortunately, Achilles' attempt to cover himself failed. Athena had bestowed wisdom onto Areta. Areta knew exactly what Achilles was. However, she decided to play along. "Oh, I see…it's a pleasure to meet you, Achillia! You play that instrument beautifully." At Areta's comment, Achilles blushed slightly, and at that precise moment, he realized Areta's angelic features; his cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red. Areta continued, "…days ago, I've found my father's sword! It was very miraculous. Very…majestic. I believe it can slay thousands of those one-eyed creatures!"

"What! Impossible! Don't be ridiculous! And I think you mean Cyclopes. A miraculous sword, hah!" Achilles mocked the girl. He crossed both his arms over his chest and smirked.

"How would you know, Achillia? You are a girl, you would not know anything about swords." Areta taunted. This annoyed Achilles. One of the many things he admired was weapons, he was full of weaponry knowledge and at that moment, he was being taunted of how clueless about weaponry he was.

"I do know everything about weapons!"

"No, you don't!"

"I do, too!"

"Impossible!"

"Possible! Very possible!"

"You're a girl!"

"I'm a boy!" Achilles was breathless, his anger had gotten to him, he had given away his identity once more.

"I knew it! I suspected you since the beginning. Now, speak the truth!" Areta smiled.

"Alright, alright…I'll tell you my secret, but you must promise to never tell anyone, promise?" Achilles glared at the nodding girl and whispered silently in her hear of his task. He was a trainee of Chiron, the centaur who trained heroes. And to keep Achilles from harm, he was disguised as a girl. Since that day on, the two became good friends. Areta kept her promise.

Days, months, years. Time passed. Areta had blossomed into a desirable, young woman, as attractive as the Goddess Aphrodite. Her full-bosomed body was admired by many men, along with her alluring face. Many had fallen for the seventeen year old maiden. Achilles himself had fallen for Areta, yet he kept his feelings hidden.

Achilles himself had grown into a handsome young man, his body was well-toned, not overly muscular. His golden colored hair was cut short, his blue eyes remained the same, however. His identity as a male had been revealed during Odysseus's visit. Achilles was tricked, Spartans then knew that Achilles was a man, not a woman. The young, rather immature, seventeen year old was tricked by his great interest in weapons. Odysseus offered Achilles to join the Greek army against the Trojans. And that week, he accepted the offer.

Two months before Odysseus's visit, while Achilles' identity was still a secret, the sun had set and the moon rose. That summer night, the air was warm and lulled many to sleep. Instead of plunging into a deep slumber, Areta covered herself in a black cloak; the shadow of the hood shrouded her stunning face in darkness. One would not be able to see her. The Spartan beauty slipped into the darkness of the night and headed deep into the woods to find a fresh-water spring. Little did she know, someone had followed her. Achilles. He had thought that the cloaked figure was a trespasser, planning to kill a villager of some sort. Achilles had spotted her while he was getting ready for his nightly slumber. Following the cloaked figure into the forest, he soon lost track of the figure, Areta, and began to search.

_What was that creature? And what's it up to?_, Achilles thought to himself. He was now a highly skilled warrior, very skilled, thanks to Chiron's training. Catching a glimpse of foot tracks on the ground, Achilles decided to follow it, curious of what is ahead of him. Finally, the foot tracks vanished behind a group bushes. Peeking through the leaves, the eighteen year old noticed a cloak on the ground, he continued to search the area to find a white tunic with a lavender silk cloth on the ground. _More footsteps…feminine clothing…? _His green eyes then fell on a lovely creature, bathing in the placid waters of the spring. Golden ringlets cascaded over the water's surface, clashing against the creature's slim waist. _Areta…_Achilles' oculars widened, he had never seen Areta bare. His conscience reprimanded him, giving him lectures; yet, his urge to stay and explore the sight of Areta's voluptuous body rose. _Her ample chest, slender waist, ivory skin, blue eyes, toned figure, golden locks…her beauty defeats both Helen's and Aphrodite's put together if I have to say so myself. _Achilles thought quietly, tan-skinned body became tense by the minute, his face reddening. The seven-teen-year-old's thought, unfortunately, had been heard by the love goddess herself, Aphrodite remained quiet. Perhaps she had given Areta too much loveliness and beauty.

Another's presence was there. The God of Light, Apollo, invisible had been watching Areta. Mesmerized by her beauty, he did not recognize Achilles' presence. Apollo's jaw nearly dropped as he continued to watch the maiden bathe. The god's heartbeats quickened by the second. He felt a rush of blood run through him as he forced himself to look away. She was a mortal, Apollo had decided to find an immortal wife, but that would be an impossible task. He had been struck by one of Eros' arrows, and had fallen in love with Areta. Finally, Apollo was able to flee from Areta's loveliness (for the night at least) and return to Mt. Olympus. The thought of Areta in his head. Achilles, noticing that Areta had almost finished, stealthily and reluctantly returned back to the village. A part of him wanted to stay and declared love to Areta, and another part held him back. He sighed softly as he entered his home, a small cozy wooden house located nearly on the edge of the village. The scene of Areta bathing kept playing in his head. Could it be that Achilles has fallen for one of his closest friends? He shook the thought off and convinced himself that he was only hallucinating, or imagining his "love" for Areta and thought nothing of the feelings he had felt; he fell into his nightly slumber.

After returning back to Mt. Olympus, Apollo did one thing and only one thing. He searched for Eros and sought his help. The attractive God of Light, a flustered expression on his face, finally encountered the love god in Venus's Garden. "Eros!" Apollo exclaimed.

Eros, who was sitting beside a fountain, watching the surface of the calm water quickly stood and faced Apollo, a grave expression on his face. Golden curls framed his charming face, yet mystery swirled in deep blue orbs. His body was clothed in a sleeveless toga, reaching down to the love god's mid-thighs; revealing a bit of his alluring body. Wings, with feathers whiter than snow, twitched slight as Eros's optics detected the flustered look on Apollo's face. "Yes? Why have you called for me?"

"I need you…enchant this maiden, make her fall in love with me." Apollo mumbled, he knew that Eros would never do this favor. Apollo would always tease Eros about how little his arrows were, and that they were childish. That moment, he regretted ever doing so.

"I believe the word is _please_. And whom shall I shoot my arrow of love at?" Eros raised a curious brow and cleared his throat, seeming to be intrigued with Apollo's seriousness. His grip on his gold bow tightened slightly as he continued to examine Apollo.

"…the maiden human Areta." Apollo mumbled, he cast his eyes downward. A few, long seconds had passed and the god of light heard no reply. He rose his head and found a taken-aback look on Eros's face. "…what is it?"

"…nothing. I shall try to help you. However, you mustn't blame me if my attempt fails. Mother may not approve of this but, I shall try. But under one condition. You must stop the ridicule and unnecessary jokes you create to humiliate me." A grave look, then, appeared on Eros's face. After a few seconds, the serious expression had vanished, and Eros wore a smile. "Agreed?"

"Are you saying that you are willing to help me?" Hope suddenly rose and happiness was plastered onto Apollo's face.

"Of course!" Eros smirked, "…as long as you do not mock me."

"Alright."

Later that night, Areta had fallen asleep in her chamber. It was past midnight, no one was awake that late at night. Eros, invisible, entered Areta's corner of the mansion. He saw the silhouette of the seventeen-year-old resting on a silk-covered, canopy bed. The lavender translucent curtains brought appeal to its surroundings. Eros could hardly see Areta's face through the curtains. His invisible hand gently pushed the curtains aside, Eros leaned slightly inward on the bed, scanning Areta's figure. Her curvaceous body was cloaked in a thin, white clothing material; enabling Eros to see through. The love god's gentle hand brushed a few of the maiden's curled, golden locks. He gently ran his index finger down Areta's soft-skinned cheek, onto her pink, luscious lips. Never had he seen such a divine human.

Eros remembered the little deal he had made with Apollo and snapped back out of the small trance Areta's beauty had trapped him in. Aphrodite's son soundlessly took out a golden arrow and penetrated the tip of the arrow through Areta's side. Feeling the sharp pain, Areta's oculars shot open as she gasped in pain. Her eyes darted in Eros's direction and startled him that he accidentally pricked his wrist with the tip of his own arrow. One would never suspect that Love himself had fallen in love. His task was not finished just yet; the god of love, this time, struck Areta gently with another love arrow, this time attempting to make the young beauty fall in love with Apollo. After his task was formed, Eros, still visible, departed and flew back to Olympus, odd feelings bubbling in his heart.

-To be continued-

**A/N: There! I finished chapter one. Yay! Ahem, anyway. I'm planning to do a love triangle, er, rectangle rather. But I'll have to think about it some more. Please review! Feedback anyone:D**


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